New Ulm weekly review., 1887-03-16
War is A Bad Thing.

People talk about war with Mexi.
co and war with England, and the
newspapers print pleasant incidents
and glorious achievements of thenoble
soldiers who figured in the late War,
which is all well and as it shonld be,
but, said old man Plunket, looking
over his spectacles, .'thar's none OF
'em what knows what war is lessen,
they's been thar.
II tell you. stranger" said the old
man, 'you may read ard you may
look at pictures of battles, and you
may go to all these 'campments and
see them have their sham fights, but
you won't know bit more about
what real war is than a man who
would suppose your Gate City Guard
could thrash old England. War is a
bad thing, mi- ter, wars a bad thing,
sure!'
"Do you see that house up the
road?' asked the old man, pointing
with his finger. "Well, stranger, right
by that window thar by the chimney
is a vacant chair. Not more q week
ago tie dear old woman who sot in
that chair, right by that window, with
her eyes looking right down this big
road ever since Lees surrender, was
buried over yonder at the church, and
thaI's not a man nor woman in this
settlement but what has shed tear
over the grave whar she lies,''
The old man wiped his spectacles
with his red bandana, and with his
head bent and his eyes cast down
shook his head and uttered, "War:s a
bad thing, stranger; wars bad thing" "
''That old lady," continued the old
man, chad four as fine boys as ever
shouldered the musket for the confea-
eracy-and that's saying a right
smart. They all went to Virginia, and
eby one they were killed till there
was only one left. Tom, he was the
oldest, and never shall forget when
the news come that he was killed at
Seven Pines. Squire Adams he lived
cross over on the other road yonder,
and the mail for the settlement went
to his house during the War, and the
neighbors would get their letters from
thar. We'd done hered thar'd been a
big fight at Richmond, so Twas settin'
right here in this piazer smoking after
supper and I hered Jim, one of Squire
Adams niggers, start from the Squire's S
house down the path that led across
the fields to yon house, following and
blowing his quils, and told my old
oman thar was letter for our neigh
bors. Jim, he went on down the path,
and directly he crossed over the branch
yOnder, and the sound from his quills
came up the branch, and l could hear
the doleful tune he was blowing as we'll
as if I'd been IN 200 yards OF him. I
followed the sound OF his qullls till he
struck the path through yon pine
thicket, and then he quit blowing his
quilts and sung:
'Down in the cornfeld,
Hear dat mournful sound,
All the darkies am er weeping,
For massa's in the cold, cold ground.
II told my cid 'oman l was Altered
that niger had bad news for our
neighbors, and so it was, for no soon
er than he'd got to the house l hered
screams and hollerin, and me and the
old 'oman put out over thar, and
what l seed then makes me know
wars bad thing, mister, wars g.
bad thing"
"Then," said the old man "thar
was more tighten and the army went
into Maryland and our neighbors
they'd sorter calmed themselves in
their anxiety for the other three sons,
and the army come outen Maryland
and then pretty soon we hered of a
big fight at Fredericksburg, and a few
nights arter was sittin right here in
this plaza alone, and l hered Jim
start from the Squire's agin, and as
he went down across the field yonder
he was singin'
II cannot work until tomorrow,
Becase the tear drops flow;
But I'll try to drive away my sorrow,
Pickin on de old banjo.
"And then he'd blow his quills and
then sing another verse till he'd got
over yonder to our neighbors, and
then listned to hear any weeping, if
he carried bad news, but thar was
no fuss this time, but | went over
thar, me and the 'old 'oman,' and
when we got close to the house we
seed the spinnin' wheels nor the loom
warn't running, and we knowed some
thing was wrong, and sure enough the
letter brought the news that two of
the boys-the two middle ones, Bob
and John-had been killed in the bat
tie, and there was only one left-Wil-
liam, the youngest; and that poor
family was too sad to weep; they
couldn't cry; they were huddled down
in the middle ofthe room on the floor,
leaning one upon the other, and not
a word spake they. / tell you,
stranger, wars q bad, bad thing"
" t'Well,'' resumed the old man, "the
War went on, and at last liews came